by Jamie Magee
“It’s a better idea than yours—Dad’s.”
His stare flicked to my chest. “It’s burning, isn’t it?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m only nineteen. A child too young to search for his soul mate or battle any darkness.” That was the line they had all used with me as I grew up. It felt good to throw it back in their face.
“You’re acting like a child. Did you ever think that maybe, just maybe all the holding back they did, all the times they asked me to hold you back, was for your own good? Because they knew it would trigger this evolution, an evolution you can’t hide from anymore.”
“Pick a side, Brady. You can’t stand at my side one minute and back up Dad’s the next.”
“Landen, we have followed your every demand. We have put aside our heritage, our world—pulled warriors from their post and fought in a dimension that has nothing to do with us.”
“It has everything to do with us! If I am who you believe I am, then I came from there. She came from there.”
“You did. And you put decrees in place here that you will abide by.” He glanced to my chest. “You can’t stop it.”
“The same decrees that state that I had to be twenty before I could have even searched for her. I have time.”
“No, you don’t. The time is now. You tell her now.”
In a flash, I pushed him against his Jeep and had his shirt balled in my fist. “There is a risen dead man in my guest room, a Phoenix and shadowed soul in my living room. Explain to me how we can ascend if none of our affairs are in order. How can we ascend if we are not at peace?”
“That dead man is going to let out your secret. You know he will.” He unclasped my hand and stood straight. “When you ascend, you will have the power to take out Donalt—problem solved.”
Justus. A man that served with my father, with Willow’s, who’d died long ago, had risen with the last trial. Not looking a day over the age of twenty, and just as Brady stated, well aware of every lore I’ve kept from Willow.
Problem solved, my ass.
If only it were that simple. If only I didn’t know about another reality. If I didn’t know about every spell that was weaved together to bring down seven Master Escorts that were basically Gods. If only I weren’t indebted to people like Phoenix, Aden, Skylynn, and every other soul that was pulled into this war against evil Gods.
Brady didn’t get that. He saw this as black and white. Chara first. Defend home first. But the thing is, with all these memories fresh in my mind, I wasn’t exactly sure where my true home was. I wasn’t exactly sure who deserved my undying loyalty—because I wanted to appease them all.
“Has Dad gotten into your head again?” I bit out. “Is that where this is coming from?”
“No. This is me, Landen. I let this go on for far too long. I haven’t told a soul about you and your best friend Drake. Keep pushing me, and I will. You’re not in debt to him. His queen has been found. It’s time for you to take control of your celestial heritage.” He let out a curse. “I don’t know what’s going on in your head, man, why you would even hesitate to protect Chara. You know the borders are weak. August told us that right now you may very well be facing both Saturn and Neptune. That’s not good, brother. Saturn will make you focus on what really matters: home, shedding ways that no longer serve you, and Neptune will give you illusions to make everything confusing. This is home. Shed this past I see in your eyes, and drop the illusion that you are indebted to any course beyond what that mark on your chest is telling you to take.”
“Until you know what I know, until you know every single detail of this twisted fate—stay out of it.”
“Tell me, then. Tell me why you are running from your own promises—promises you made when you created this dimension.”
“You couldn’t comprehend it.”
“Why? Because I’m not a king like Drake or a Phoenix? Because I’m nothing more than a Rampart Warrior from divine royal blood? You can hide behind any curse you want, but we both know what you’re afraid of. You have the strongest warriors in existence at your command, and you have chosen to play out this part for her. I don’t care what you know—I know you’re acting like a coward. And we don’t deserve to be in second, third, or fourth place on your to-do list. You have to rise to protect us. That is the only way you are going to take down the beast Donalt has become.”
I jerked my Jeep door open. “Tell you what, Brady. Go home. Look in Felicity’s eyes. Ask yourself how sure you are that you’re right. Tell yourself that you have no doubt—that Allie will not lose the foundation she was born into simply because her father was too much like his father, too worried about me and my own to consider the two of them. You think I’m a coward. You’re the coward. You need another man to make a move before you can push through with your life.”
His glare was glacial. “The difference between me and you, Landen, is that I’m not afraid of my future. I trust my heart.”
I only offered a scowl as I peeled away. He was a fool. Any man that would blindly risk his family, his world, for the sake of heritage was a fool.
A boy that had no doubt, a boy that was looking to stake a claim and rage war on darkness made those decrees Brady wants me to honor. That boy, or rather myself, was a fool. Darkness is within us all. I want to heal, not destroy. Why that concept is so hard for my family to grasp, I will never understand.
What ticked me off more than anything was that it only took one decision to change your entire life—the life of an entire world.
Chapter Two
~ Willow ~
I hesitated before I opened my eyes. I wasn’t over the urge to seize my emotions, even though it had been a day or so since all emotion had involuntary been suppressed. Just before that seize, I was in misery. All too aware.
When I fell asleep last night, I said a silent prayer that the heavens would grant me at least one more day in this blissful ‘time out.’ I liked the peace, the sense of normality. I didn’t like that more than likely a malevolent force had stripped me, but nevertheless I wanted this reprieve to last just a little bit longer. If I had my way, I would never feel pain like that again.
Nothing. I couldn’t feel anyone next to me. If I really focused, I thought I did feel someone resting close. Landen…where is Landen? My eyes flew open, finding myself at home. I didn’t fall asleep here. I was sure of that, and as far as I knew, Landen and I had planned to stay away for a few more days, at least that was what I told him I wanted to do.
The other night started to rush through my thoughts. The Realm, walking through that fire, Donalt—Justus rising from the dead.
Right after that, Landen and I had gone back to our little romantic getaway on the top of that mountain peak.
I simply let the silence of my mind take over. I smiled and laughed when I thought he was asking for that emotion. I did what I could to let him know I was at peace and not concerned over my loss. I knew him well enough to know that I was not convincing, well enough to know that he was preparing for a war that I to this day could not clearly understand.
I knew he was awake when I finally drifted into empty dreams last night.
Now that I think about it, I never met him in my dreams last night, which was a first. He must have stayed awake. I swear I told him a thousand times that I was fine. Not damaged, but at peace. He didn’t see it that way. He wanted to know who took my energy and how. He must have carried me home. Why? Where is he?
Grudgingly, I pulled myself up, feeling as if I had just recovered from a wicked flu or something. I was back on the front lines again, and I wanted nothing more than to disappear for a little while longer.
The bed was still made. I was lying on top of it with a quilt carefully placed over me. I saw a note on my bedside table and reached for it.
Justus is in the guest room. They left him here because they think we are the only ones strong enough to control him. Leave him be. I’ll be back in a little bit…Love you.
&nbs
p; I was getting really sick of him leaving me behind like that. It made me feel weak.
After a shower and getting ready for the day, I discovered I was all alone—well, except for the dead man in the downstairs guest room.
I must have stared at that door for at least an hour before I decided to make a pot of coffee and warm up a bagel, then dared to introduce myself to Justus.
I had only seen Justus briefly the other night. I really was having a hard time understanding how he rose from the grave not looking a day older than when they laid him there. Why he seemed so violent. I mean, I know, who wouldn’t be ticked off about being murdered? But still. He’d looked nothing less than lethal as he charged Alamos. Hard to believe my dad used to run with him in his younger years. Out of our dads, Ashten seemed to be the most aggressive, and all he ever really did was grunt and give scornful glances. Livingston was a peacemaker, like my dad. And now we had Justus, a fallen member of the generation that bore us.
I was hoping that someone had talked to him after they brought him here. That he knew his girl, Adonia, was long gone, or at the very least in a suspended animation somewhere due to some magic.
I edged the door open. He was lying across the queen bed; his shirt was off, revealing every single chiseled muscle in his lean body. His dark blond curls were just long enough to reach his eyes, which were closed. This boy—or man, rather—was near Godly. Clearly born and bred in the bliss of Chara.
I tried to catch an emotion from him, but I couldn’t feel one, it seemed my time out from this curse was still in place for the most part. He seemed still, calm; nothing like the wrath I’d felt the other night.
I edged closer as I took him in. There were scars on his body. Nothing horrifying, but you could see that he had been in a fight or two in his life. One curved from the center of his chest to his ribcage. There was another that was just above his eye. It was small, but it seemed to carry a story of its own. This boy had fought hard when he was alive, no doubt there. Oddly, deep down that enraged me. Some silent voice in the core of my soul wanted revenge.
When my father first told me about Justus, I was pretty deep into the shock factor that I was from another dimension, but I remembered the story. I knew he lost his love, who was Alamos’ daughter, that he was murdered either just before or after that.
I sat the coffee cup down on the bedside table. When I set the plate down, his hand shot from his side and gripped my arm with nothing less than fierce dominance. I glanced to where our skin was touching as a stab of familiarity shocked that same deep place in my soul. I felt oddly connected to him, but I coldheartedly shrugged him away.
I knew I could fling him across the room with a mere thought, but I figured he’d had a bad enough few days.
My eyes met his in that instant, eyes that were a deep gray with shards of green and blue spiraling out from the centers. I don’t think I had ever seen that color so defined in another soul. His dark stare pinned me where I stood.
I was almost sure I could sense disbelief coming from him. Relief. But it was too faint for me to know for sure.
“You.”
“Willow.”
He moved his head from side to side on his pillow. “That’s not your name.” His voice was deep and husky, fortified with what some might call malice.
“Look, buddy, you had a rough awakening. You’re confused.”
“Am I?” he said as he let go of my arm. He held my gaze as he rose from his bed, letting his legs move to the side. He was massive. Tall and powerful, like Landen and his family. His stoic stance led me to believe that he had spent more time on the dark side of traveling than the blissful side. Warrior. That word kept flashing into my mind.
“Being dead kinda jacks up your senses, or so I would assume.”
He seemed to weigh his words before he spoke them. It was as if he thought I was a wounded animal that he had to find his pace with. “You’re Jason’s daughter. The one he swore he would never conceive. You were born on November nineteenth.” He furrowed his brow. “I’m betting nineteen years ago, in the dimension of Infante.”
Normally, a statement like that would have sent shock, fear, or confusion through me, but not anymore. I grinned sheepishly, loving this new chapter of my life. It was like watching a silent movie. Granted, it was harder to size up people, but still…I liked this.
“I know you were—or are—friends with my dad. And I am very aware that my birth was predicted.”
“Friends,” he said, almost to himself. “Nothing your father and I ever did together would be called friendly.”
I raised one brow. There was one line you didn’t cross with me, and that was my family. “Watch your words, dead man. My father thinks kindly of you. Of course, I have never known him to think harshly of anyone, but nevertheless—mind your words.”
“Then you clearly do not know your father,” he said with a leer as his eyes searched the room and he reached his hand for his chest. Assuming he wanted his shirt, I grabbed it off the back of the sitting chair and tossed it to him.
He never broke eye contact with me as he slid it over his body. I knew that look; it was the one my friend, Chase, would give me in the hallways at school, the one that made me feel beautiful and disgusting at the same time.
I didn’t get this boy—or man, rather. The other night, was he not screaming for his soul mate? What is he doing looking at me like that?
“Watch your gaze, boy. I’ve been known to be lethal.”
“No doubt that you have.” That gaze. It was drawing me closer. There was an unwavering urge deep inside of me that wanted to touch that scar on his chest, the one above his eye. I wanted to take the memory of the pain away. I wanted him to feel safe. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why.
“Did you ever focus long enough for my father to explain to you that you died, a long time ago?”
“Why would I need Jason to explain that to me? I was there.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “You were out of it last time I saw you—did they tell you anything else?”
The gravity of those gray eyes moved over me again. “Obviously, they didn’t tell you much about me.”
“What I know is sad. I’m sorry for your loss.”
“No loss has come to me.”
Great. They neglected to tell him about Adonia.
“Well, welcome back, I guess. I don’t know where anyone is right now. I can call my dad if you want.”
He tilted his head. “Willow, you should know exactly where every single soul in your family is at all times…that is, if you are truly Jason’s child.”
“You know, over the past few months I figured out that predictions never really pan out the way we think they should. Whoever told you and my dad about me surely overstated a few traits.”
He glanced over me once more. “I was the one that told Jason of his future, and I have a very limited imagination. I’m on point about you.”
Now I was intrigued. “You’re precognitive?”
“Precognitive. That’s a fancy name.”
“Are you?”
He reached for where I knew that scar on his chest was. “No doubt.”
I hadn’t fared well with precognitive souls…well, at least not in the manner that I would want to. Libby and Preston only told me vague paths to take. I’m too stubborn for vague. I need bluntness. I suppose I should test him out and see if perhaps he saw fit to be more forthcoming.
“What about me? What did you tell my dad? What did you see?”
“You really don’t know?” His tone was laced with apathy, which ticked me off.
“Didn’t I ask you?”
“Beyond the exact time of your birth and your death—I told him I would die and come back to be your soul mate.”
With that audacious remark, he winked, then stood and strolled to the bathroom.
I stood awestruck for a second, then charged out of the room, determined to call my father and demand that he tell me everything about this dea
d man risen now residing in my guest room. But right as I went to pick up the phone, I froze. A little voice in my head started to taunt me. Maybe this wasn’t a bad thing. I mean, the soul mate thing—whatever—not going down that road with another boy, but the secrets he must know. I could totally exploit him for gain. That is, if I could get him to talk.
I mean, one of the hardest things I have to deal with is this hidden cloak of secrecy that my family always seems to have. That unspoken rule that both Landen and I long ago decided not to unravel. Instead, we focused ourselves on saving Esterious. But…what if I had found a key? Someone who would tell me how or why all this started?
My father led me to believe that Esterious had predicted my birth. That Justus had died defending his soul mate. From day one, he had led me to fear Esterious and wanted, as Ashten did, for me to stay safely in Chara.
I was pretty sure Landen had already figured out how to undo the curse of eight beyond the sun and the moon, but still, there had to be more. There was always more.
I felt a weighted energy fill the room.
“You trying to figure out if you should call your Guardian boy and tell him I made a pass at you?” I heard Justus say from behind me.
Slowly, I turned to face him. “No. I’m trying to figure out how to use you.”
A cool, lethal grin eased across his image, making him look every bit like the rebel youth I was sure he was when he died.
“Impossible.”
“Nothing is impossible.”
“What do you want to know?” he asked with an awkward smirk. It was like he could not believe I was real, which was crazy; he was the dead man.
“Why would my father swear to never conceive me? And when and exactly how am I supposed to die?”
“A day’s time. Maybe three. It’s not like I have a clock in front of me or anything. If my memory serves me correctly, by now you have surely jacked up the map of the heavens. Saturn correct? That is what this is now? Why we are face-to-face once again?”
